


Hush, Little One

by FanFicsWriter



Series: The Lockhearst Series [1]
Category: The Hunger Games
Genre: F/M, Inspired by The Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicsWriter/pseuds/FanFicsWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each year, twelve districts are to select one young man and woman, between the ages of 12 and 18, to participate in the annual Hunger Games, a televized fight to the death. </p><p>Every year, the random tributes have no relation to each other. However, this year, the 24th Hunger Games, the two tributes from District Twelve are brother and sister, one determined to protect his family, the other to protect her brother. Only one may be victor, only one can come out of the arena. </p><p>Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever on your favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hush, Little One [1]

Usually in my dreams, there’s a fire. I stand outside and watch the flames eat away at the burning little house. The roaring black smoke rises into the sky, blocking the gray clouds from view. Even in my dreams I can feel the heat from the fire, warming my body and cheeks, kissing my forehead. I embrace it, for such warmth doesn’t come in the real world. When I hear the shrieks and cries for help, I try to block it out. They make me go deaf, all screaming my name. I push my palms against my ears and try to tell them that I cannot help, but they don’t listen. Soon, I can feel their charcoal hands grabbing my clothes, still yelling my name for me to help. They try to pull me into the house with them. I always escape, and I do this time. Yet one day my luck will run out and the hands will succeed in pulling me in.

I know this dream, it’s so familiar to me, but I always jolt awake, my eyes flying open. Everything is blurry, my head is spinning like a top. I feel someone else curled into a ball next to my waist. The plain creme sheets are wrapped around this person so I can’t see their face. When my eyes adjust and my breathing regulates, I prop my leg up and rest my arm against it, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. The sticky liquid runs down my fingers as I watch it. The figure next to me moves, wriggling in the thin sheets and groaning in their sleep. It’s like my memory comes rushing back and I know who it is, my younger sister Ash. I lean over to pull the sheets away from her small porcelain face. Her light blonde hair falls like a curtain in her face.

I clearly remember the day Ash was born. Me and... wait. My body shifts around to look at the bed next to ours. It’s empty, the faded blue blanket thrown to the floor. The boots that are supposed to be at the end of the bed are gone. The panic starts to rise in my chest. I take a look at Ash, who doesn’t budge in her sleep. She has a small smile. Her dreams must be pleasant. I rip my eyes away from her and stand on my feet. Kolton, he’s supposed to be laying there. Our older brother. What if someone happened to him when he was out in the woods? What if he’s dying, right now? Without thinking, I tug my own boots over my feet. I grab a makeshift hair thing and pull my hair up and start to leave the house. When I open the bedroom door, however, I hear some thing slam onto some thing in another room. I stop dead in my tracks, my teeth holding the hair tie in my mouth. I bite down on it, hard. Remembering what Kolton had taught me in the woods, I crouch down low and lighten my foot falls. I slowly creep toward the other room, realizing it’s our kitchen and half wash room.

More noises erupt from the room. Someone’s rummaging through our kitchen, probably stealing the only food we have left. I have no weapon on me, and this small hallway isn’t providing a weapon either. I silently curse at myself, my hunting knife is in the bedroom, under the pillow I share with Ash. I can’t go back now, I have to deal with this intruder.

I reach the end of the hall, peeking around the corner to spy into the kitchen. I see the guy, a hat is pulled over his head. He’s hunched over the table, his back facing me. I see a hunting knife resting on the small table near him, a little to his right and behind him. He wouldn’t see me if I grabbed it. As I slowly creep up on him, I watch to see what he’s doing. He’s... digging in something, pulling some thing out and digging again. Due to his broad shoulders and tight build, I can’t see what’s he _really_ doing. I can only guess. I realize that I’m probably wasting time just doing this, Kolton is probably dead already. I speed things up, putting pace into my little steps. I make it to the table, slowly reach up to grab the handle of the hunting knife, then position it with the blade facing downwards. I straighten up, lift the blade, but just as I’m about to drive it down into his back, the guy speaks, “Alma, you aren’t very quiet.”

Just by his voice, I know who he is. “Thom?”

He turns around to face me, giving me his signature smug grin along with his flawless white teeth. Thom is about to two years older than me, seventeen like Kolton. The two are best friends, and I say that Thom is like a second brother to us. He teases me like Kolton does, and protects Ash like me and Kolton together. The only thing him and Kolton do in a sibling way is prank each other whenever possible. Never have they fought or yelled at each other. They're truly brothers.

“Good morning Al,” Thom replies. He gives me a two fingered salute, then turns back around to do whatever he was doing. I lower the blade, setting it back on the table, and walk up to Thom, standing next to him. He’s digging into a turkey, putting out meat from it’s dead carcass and plucking the brown feathers.

“Where’s Kolton?” I ask him, mesmerized by the size of the turkey. You usually can’t find a big one around, only in the neighborhood with the shops. The owners have pigs and goats and turkeys, but nothing for anyone else, especially for the people who live in the Seam.

“He’s at the Hob, don't worry. Trading in a deer we shot down earlier. Had to get something in before the Reaping.” Thom pulls out a fist full of feathers and sets them down on the table. “Think Ash could use something outta these?”

I shrug, leaning my palms on the weak wood. Ash could find a rock and bust it down to make a necklace if she wanted to. That girl has a thing for creating anything. The artist, my dad says, she’s the artist of the family.

And what would that make me and Kolton? I know Kolton loves to make weapons for anything. He loves setting traps and finding new ways to tune them up. He wants to be an engineer, but considering that we live in District 12 instead of 2 or 6, he’ll be a coal miner, like every other poor guy living here. As for me, well, I don’t know what I’ll be. I can’t sing like most girls, who sing the Valley song any chance they get. I don’t like kids, so teaching’s out. Maybe I’ll just be... there. A poor lonely soul who couldn’t find anything interesting to do in her life. Or I could work at the Hob. Going behind the Peacekeepers’ back has always been my speciality.

Moments later, the front door is pushed in and Kolton steps through, his blonde hair messed this way and that. He hauls in a bag, a game bag, full of bread and berries. I can’t help myself and run towards him, hugging him quickly before helping him with the bag. Thom continues to pull the feathers out of the turkey. When Kolton sees, a frown makes it’s way onto his way.

“I thought you said you were gonna give that turkey to the fish catcher,” Kolton says. I set the game bag on the table and open it up. There’s one and a half piece of bread and a small bag of berries. I knew they were berries, I could smell the smash juices when Kolton walked in. I smile to myself and pull the small berry bag out.

“Well, I thought Ash could like the feathers. Plus I’m sure we could have some meat after the Reaping today.”

That’s the thing about Thom, he doesn’t have a family. He’s an orphan. His mom died when he was born and his dad died in a mining accident. This happened three years ago. When our mom heard, she felt so bad that she let Thom stay with us for a few weeks before he moved back into his own house. Since he’s older now, it doesn’t bother him. The only thing he stays with us for is the meal after the Reaping, to celebrate another year of surviving.

When the word “Reaping” is uttered, everyone in the room goes quiet. I turn around to look at the two older boys. They solemnly stare at the ground, silenced by the thoughts of the Reaping. Who knows who’s going to be Reaped? With that thought, I decide to ask, “How many times did you enter your name, Thom?”

His once bright smile is long gone. “Fifty. Not counting the extra for rice. You two?”

This time, my eyes fall to the floor as Kolton answers for me, “I entered forty-six times. Alma entered twenty-nine.”

“How many times will you let Ash enter next year?” Thom asks us.

Ash is eleven now. Next year, she’ll be twelve, she’ll be eligible for the Games. Ash is so small, like the rest of us. Maybe Kolton looks big because how wide his shoulders are, but none of us are muscular. And since Ash is the youngest, she looks about nine, not eleven. Because of this, me and Kolton– Thom too– tend to treat Ash... well, more like a baby.

 

“None,” Kolton replies. “Our names will be enough.”

“What about when you're nineteen? How many times will _my_ name be entered?” I ask him, daring to look straight into his eyes.

His silver eyes stare straight back at me, hard as a rock. “As many as it needs to be to take care of your family.”

I don’t roll my eyes, as much as I want to. Thom can see the tension between us, it’s so thick. I look away from Kolton and let the two guys talk. I walk back into our parents room. Mom is probably out working in the Hob already, but our dad can’t do anything. He can’t use his legs, He lost all of the feeling in them. One day, he was carrying large sacks to the Justice Building. Probably rice or grain. Despite his complains about the weight, the Peacekeepers kept him at it. When he finally collapsed, the Peacekeepers beat his legs until they bled, and even after that. They threw him in the door that night. I remember helping Kolton and Mom carry him to the healer’s house, and staying all night until the healer couldn’t do anything else. Now he stays in bed all day, reading countless of books.

I open the door slowly, not wanting to wake him up if he’s sleeping. Sure enough he is, the quilt that Ash found tucked around him tightly. I walk over to his bed side and push his blonde hair out of his eyes. Dad has always had a kind heart. He never talked bad about anyone, not even President Snow, the new president who took office five years ago. Everyone suspects that he killed the last president since he disappeared one day, and the young Snow took his place. Giving him a kiss on his forehead, I accidentally stir him awake. His pale blue eyes smile at me.

“Hello Alma,” Dad says softly, pushing the covers away but I tuck them back in.

 

“You don’t have to move around today,” I whisper to him with a smile. “Sleep in.”

“But today is the Reaping–”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want you up. Mom wouldn’t want you to either.”

He gives in, settling back into the warmth of the bed. I kiss his forehead again. “I’ll see you for supper.”

When I notice that our door is open. I walk into it and Kolton and Thom. He’s sitting on my bed, holding Ash in his lap. She rubs her eyes, pushing her blonde mess back and yawning. Kolton is looking in our wooden crate that we call a dresser, probably trying to find some thing for the Reaping. I fall on my side onto Kolton's bed, bouncing up and down for a few seconds.

Thom is whispering something in Ash’s ear, who is looking at me with a wide grin. I pretend not to notice. I cover my eyes with my arm and hear Ash giggling. Next thing I know, Ash has pounced onto me, giggling madly and hopping up and down on the bed. I pull my arm away and look up, then yell as her feet pull my hair. I pull her feet from underneath of her, making her fall into the bed. She lets out a shriek of shock and joy.

“You cheated!” She laughs.

“We were playing a game?” I ask, sitting up and grinning at her. Ash sits up as well, scoots behind me, and starts to play with my hair. Kolton steps in front of me and holds out a white dress shirt.

“This will do?” He asks, holding a pair of gray pants in his other hand. I give him two thumbs up when Ash jumps up and sits next to me.

“You guys are getting ready now?”

I nod my head and smile at her. “Wanna help me get dressed?”

Kolton walks out of the room, mumbling something about getting a bath before dressing. Ash hops off of the bed and pulls out a box from underneath of our bed. Thom and I watch her sit on her knees as she opens the box and pulls out a short, white button up dress. She also pulls out socks and dress shoes. I notice these as the things that Ash was wanting to wear herself. She stands up, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, and hands them to me. Taking it as my quo, I walk over behind the door and kick off my boots, slip my shirt off and pull the dress over top. I button it up in the front, then walk out over to Kolton’s bed, pulling my pants off after. I glance up at Thom. He quickly looks away when our eyes meet. His cheeks are a tiny bit red. 

Why is he blushing?

Ash takes my clothes and sets them on our bed. I pull the clean socks on and slip my feet into the ugly black shoes.

“Shouldn’t you go get dressed too?” I ask Thom. He looks up at me.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to. I’ll probably go like this.”

“The Peacekeepers’ll give you hell,” I point out to him. Thom shrugs his shoulders. I laugh lightly.

Ash climbs behind me and does my hair, wrapping it into a ponytail, then knotted into a braid. I flick the braid over my shoulder, pulling Ash into a hug. I stroke her soft honey hair back. We stay like that for a while. Thom doesn’t say anything and lays back on our bed, closing his eyes. I wonder what it must be like to loose your family the way Thom did. I couldn’t imagine living without Ash or Kolton. Or even my mom and dad. I’d probably cry for days and wouldn’t want to move, to live anymore. I wonder what keeps Thom going. Maybe it’s Kolton or Ash, or a girl he likes. Maybe even me.

Kolton walks into the room a minute later. The bell goes off, the start of the Reaping. Thom sits up, yawns, ruffles his hair, and says, “Let’s get this over with.”

I nod and stand up. Ash grabs Kolton’s hand before pulling on socks and her own shoes. When we get to the Central, Ash’ll find Mom in the crowd of parents and wait with her. While Kolton and Ash go to say bye to Dad, me and Thom wait outside. He sighs deeply, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Sometimes I wonder if I ever get picked for the Games, would anyone miss me.” Thom says. I only stare at him with bewilderment.

“Of course people would miss you. You may not have a blood family, but you have us. We’re your family, Thom.”

Before he can say anything else, Kolton and Ash come out. We start to head out, and as we do, Ash holds hands with Thom and they start to talk. She asks him about the woods. While they get into a conversation, I think about what Thom said. What if I was picked for the Games? Would any one besides my family miss me? Who would cheer for me, wish that I was the winner? I don’t know. I don’t talk to many people. I tug at the end of my dress nervously, watching ahead as we near the City Central. I don’t know who’d miss me, but I wouldn’t care really. I know that my family would support me. They’d care. I smile at Ash blabbering away to Thom. Kolton chuckles from time to time at what Ash says. I only smile.

We near the Justice Building. Kolton, Thom, and I kiss and hug Ash goodbye. Mom comes over and hugs all three of us, then the two walk into the gathering crowd on the side. I hug both boys and head into the girl’s line. Thom and Kolton go into the boy’s. It’s a short wait in the line, with girls all my age, biting and gnawing at their lips or tugging at their hair. I only pay attention to the rapid heart beat in my chest, growing each time I take a step closer to the Peacekeeper who draws our blood. My mind keeps going back to how many times I put my name in the bowls. Twenty–nine. I have a good chance of getting picked, but I’m sure older girls have put their names in more times than I have, maybe more than Thom. And when I give my finger to the big nosed Peacekeeper, I feel a little better. My finger is pricked, my blood slashed against the paper, and the big nosed woman tells me to go ahead.

We all head into sections according to our age. I head to the group with all of the fifteen year old girls. Some hold hands, others look ready to cry. I just stare at the bowls again. Already on the stage is Syrio Lush, our District’s escort. He always likes to wear big accessories to his shirts, so naturally today he’s wearing a baby blue shirt with really big puff ball things on his shoulders. His hair is blonde this time, curled out and shaped like a circle around his head. The tips are the same color as his shirt, that baby blue. He has it painted around his eyes and lips. I’ll never understand the fashion at the Capitol.

Once all of the children are in their correct places, Syrio begins, “Hello, hello, hello! Happy Hunger Games! Before we begin, let’s give a warm welcome to our mayor!”

Everyone gives a half hearted applause as the mayor comes up and begins to read the Treaty of Treason, a very long retelling of how the Hunger Games started, with District 13's rebel and blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard this so many times in school and I’ve had about enough of it.

After that, Syrio takes the mic back rather eagerly. “Now, let us pick our lucky lady to represent our girl tribute! Remember, may the odds be ever in your favor.”

I’ve always hated how excited the escorts acted. If it was all an act, it was terrible. Syrio walks over to the bowl containing all of the girl’s names, mine included. I hold my breath in my throat as one slip of paper is selected. Syrio, the man with funny shirts, walks over to the microphone and rips the slip of paper open. Everything freezes for those three seconds that he pauses. Every girl is holding their breath, waiting for the name to be rung out throughout the District, and throughout Panem. I bet all of those fat Capitol jerks are just holding their breath as well as they watch us, betting on who will be picked. Is it that red haired girl over there? Or how about that scrawny pale girl in the corner, far to the left?

I don’t even pay attention when the name is called. Syrio has to say it twice for me to realize that I know who it is.

It’s me.

The blonde, stone eyed girl in the white button up dress.

 

 


	2. Hush, Little One [2]

I can hear my own breath, slow and heavy, as I watch every girl around me turn to look. Some have sorrow, others relief. Syrio beckons me forward. “Come on, Alma Lockehearst. Don’t be shy.”

I want to choke him. I force my legs to work. I start to walk through the crowd of girls and out onto the path, the one that separates the girls from boys. I can hear someone crying. Ash. I can’t look back, I’ll cry too. I bite the inside of my cheek and walk, ignoring my little sister’s cries for me to not go. It’s the only thing heard in the whole District right now. I don’t find Thom or Kolton. I don’t want to see their faces, I don’t want to cry in front of the whole country. I can’t, as much as I want to. I stiffly walk up the steps and stand next to Syrio. He smiles at me brightly and continues on, acts as if he didn’t just send a kid to her death.

I’m dying.

Syrio walks over to the boy’s bowl. Another minute closer to my death. I’m not going to survive in the Hunger Games. Those kids who train in the inside Districts? I’m dead. They’ll kill me. I don’t stand a chance. He dramatically swirls his hand into the bowl, grabs a single slip of paper, and walks back to the microphone. I look past the people of 12, out into the woods. Can I just run away and never come back?

Syrio opens the paper and reads the name, “Kolton...,”

No.

“Kolton Lockehearst.”

I swear, every person in District 12 looked at the blonde boy, the brother of the stone eyed girl. Ash’s screams mixed with my mom’s. She wasn’t losing just one child, she was losing two. In the same way. People started to murmur. They felt sorry for us. They pitied us. A brother and sister going into the Games. Honestly, I don’t care what they think or say. All I care about is that my brother, my brother, is going into the Games with me. This shouldn’t be right, this shouldn’t happen. I can’t go in with him. He’s my brother. He’s my brother!

And then I started to cry. Deep heaves came from my mouth, big tears dribbled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them once they started. Kolton started walk toward the stage and I let out a mangled “no.” Syrio turns toward me with pity in his deep blue eyes. He starts to reach our for me, but I step away. I don’t want him or anyone else touching me. I just want Kolton to go back into the crowd of kids. Wait... someone can volunteer. It seems that my mom has the same idea, as she starts screaming, “Someone volunteer! Please, please! I can’t lose both of my children, please!”

No one listens. This is a District of one man for himself if you aren't family. Kolton takes his place on stage, a place he shouldn't be standing. Maybe he thinks the same of me. Syrio glances at Kolton, but my brother stares at someone in the crowd. His eyes look like rocks, hard and lean, as they pierce whoever they’re looking at. Syrio goes on to say something but I don’t listen. I’m focusing on how to stop from crying. I got my small wish didn’t I? Soon all I hear is static in my ears, no real words. Just muffled claps. They’re clapping. Why are they clapping? Syrio touches my shoulder, getting my attention, and inclines his head at Kolton. His hand is out. I have to shake his hand.

I reach up with my own shaky hand to my brother’s. His hand is bigger than mine but he uses two hands to shake with my small one. As I stare into his eyes, I can feel myself start to cry again. He gives his head a little shake and squeezes my hand. Still shocked, Syrio ushers me inside the Justice Building. Kolton and I are taken into different rooms. This is where I’m supposed to say goodbye to family and friends. Just thinking that Kolton is in the other room, going into the Hunger Games with me. Then I think to myself, this shouldn’t be right. None of this is right. I collapse in one of the brown leather chairs and bury my head in my knees. I don’t think I’ve ever seen leather this fine. It’s thick and sewn tight into the chair, the light from the window behind me glistening off of it. It seems like forever for someone to come in through the door, so I run my finger in small circles on the chair, hoping my tears will dry soon. I’m not even in the Games yet and I’m worried about what the other tributes will think of me. Surely they’ll see me as weak from crying, but aren’t all of District 12’s tributes weak? Aren’t we all just poor little kids, crying and starving? That’s what the other Districts near the Capitol think of us, just a few more little kids to kill. 

The door opens suddenly, yanking me away from my thoughts. My head snaps up to see who it is, but someone runs into me, grabbing onto my neck for dear life. I already know it’s Ash, so I stand up, keeping an arm underneath of her bottom so I can hold her, and open my other arm wide for my mom. Her own tears stain her sunken in cheeks, but I bury my head in her shoulder and cry. Ash doesn’t let go of my neck, almost digging her nails in. We stay like that for a few minutes before I pull away, staring up at my mother with fear. Fear of my own life. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

My voice is croaky and scratchy, but I don’t care. Mom tries to smile, but her sadness takes over and my head in pushed into her chest. “I’m so sorry, Alma. I’m so sorry.”

What is she sorry for? I don’t ask. I let her slowly rock me and my sister back and forth until the door reopens and the Peacekeeper is telling us that our time is up. Mom has to pry Ash’s small fingers off of me. She’s dragged out of the door with me shouting after them, “I love you!” I settle back into the leather chair, staring after the door. I wipe my eyes and cheeks, pulling my dress’ hem up so I can rub the dried tears away. It isn’t fair for Ash to have her sister taken away from her, forever. I’m not going to survive the Games. Kolton has a higher chance than me, despite how much he has taught me about survival. All I know is how to hunt and kill with a small knife, that I had to make. I have no chance, none at all. 

When I hear the knob of the door turn, I jump up from my seat. Thom comes rushing in and practically pulls me into his arms. I wrap my small arms around his neck while he does the same, gently rocking us back and forth. I can hear him choking up. Thom doesn’t cry. He never cried, not even what his parents died. To hear Thom cry breaks my heart. I slowly caress his hair to calm him down when I should be the one bawling. 

“Thom, don’t cry. Don’t cry for me,” I mumble to his ear. He sniffles, pulling away to look at me. His eyes are red, puffy around and wet with tears. I can’t bare him to cry for me. I’m not worth crying over. He brushes my hair out of my face gently, pushing it back to stick to my braid. He opens his mouth to speak, but the doors behind him open again. 

“Let’s go,” The Peacekeeper growls. That’s when Thom clung to me, crushing my small body in his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder, taking in his scent for the last time, the last time. I feel the tears well up in my eyes when Thom is ripped away, yelling and thrashing in the stronger Peacekeeper’s arms. The whole room comes crashing down on me and I stumble to my knees. Who knew Thom cared so much for me? I can still hear his mangled screams of my name, through the thick wooden door and into the hall. My hands turn into tight fists with snow white knuckles, and I bang hard against the floor, letting out a loud, ear–splitting cry. I can’t deal with this. How many kids my age went through this? The teary goodbyes and heart breaking cries and screams. I can’t do this. I can’t go into the Hunger Games. I can’t go into the Games with my brother, the second person in the world who I care about most. 

Slowly, I crawl back over to the big leather chair and curl up in it, bringing my bruised knees to my chest. I know I’m probably having a mental break down. I know that I shouldn’t be acting this way. I’m fifteen, not five. And yet I am. I wish I had my mom to brush my hair back and tell me that everything was going to be alright. The harsh reality is that it’s not. I’m going to die. With or without my brother. He’s going to live past the Games. This thought somehow soothes me over. I can imagine Kolton’s future, and Ash’s. Living in District 12 with a family and happy, forgetting the sister they lost in the Games years ago. This scary thought of the future that I’m not in calms me down. The tears stop on their own, I don’t force them. The door opens for a third time, and I think that it’s time to go to the Capitol, but no. It’s another visitor. I merely look up to see who it is. It’s a girl, I know who she is. She’s Kolton’s girlfriend, Nellie. She’s a sweet girl too, never said anything wrong or rude to or about anyone. She’s as fragile as a flower, at least that's what I say. Her and Ash get along well because they’re both treated carefully with everyone. So to see her with huge tears in her big brown eyes, I want to beat the punk up who did it. She’s like another Ash to me. 

I hug Nellie, stroking back her long blonde hair in an attempt to calm her heaving. When she does stop, she pulls away from me and reaches for my hand. With a very shaky hand, Nellie shoves something into my moist hand, looking at me with her big innocent eyes. 

“Kolton doesn’t want to tell you, b-but he wants you to live th-through the Games. He...,” She hiccups and sniffles, trying to refrain from crying. “He wants to kill himself to push you ahead. And I know I shouldn’t be crying but I-I...” And Nellie breaks down crying, sobbing and heaving loudly. I slump down to my knees and hug her. I’m smaller than her, way skinner and bonier. Nellie does have some weight on her, and I’m happy. Her family must be eating properly. I can’t feel the bones in her back anymore. This makes me hug her tighter. 

It’s time for Nellie to go. She gives me one last hug, kisses my cheek, and says, “When you two are alone, read the letter.” I nod while she smiles softly at me, then walks through the wooden doors and away from me. Will this be the last time I ever see Nellie, crying like a baby because her boyfriend and his sister are picked for the Games? I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I stay on the floor, still sitting on my knees. I wait for the next visitor, if there is any. There isn’t. It’s time to go to the Capitol. I’m ushered out and into the halls of the Justice Building. Kolton comes out of one of the rooms, breathing heavily with his hands covering his face. When I see him, I dash over to him and slam straight into him, locking my arms around his stomach and not letting go. When Kolton realizes, he does the same. I feel safe with Kolton with me. We stay like that for a few seconds. That’s when I noticed the cameras, shooting everything we do right now live all around the Capitol. Kolton ruffles the top of my hair, grabbing my hand with his, and we follow Syrio out into the day, getting into a car that will take us to the train station. 

The ride is short, just down the long stretch of dirt road. The silver, shiny train station is in view, and we could’ve just walked, but I guess the Capitol wants us to die quicker. Syrio sits next to Kolton, and I sit next to him, next to the window. Our hands are still entwined with the other’s as Syrio goes on and on about how he’s sorry that we’re both picked and blah blah blah. I stop paying attention. I watch the yellow road zoom by, the clouds of dust that blow up after. How will the Games be like? That’s the only thing on my mind. With two siblings in the Games, maybe they’ll throw in another surprise of some kind. Some sick, and twisted surprise. Before I can even get into detail, Kolton is ushering me out of the car. The bright sunlight burns my hair. Our hands are still intact. Syrio smiles softly at us and beckons us onto the shiny silver train, to match the station. Kolton is the one to pulls me aboard, because I’m staring at all of the cameramen, shoving the cameras in our faces. I’d love to shove them right back, but Kolton drags me on. The doors shut behind me and the train starts to move. 

I take one long look at my home, District 12, for the last time. A sudden sadness washes over me. I’m going to miss them. 

I’m going to miss them all.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first chapter of a THG fan fic that I am writing on here as well as on Wattpad, you guys just get it first!


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